


Legacy

by Der_Katze



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Men of Letters Bunker, Monologue, POV Dean Winchester, Post-Season/Series 09 Finale, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:40:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2142717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Der_Katze/pseuds/Der_Katze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Season 9.<br/>Dean's in his room with a dictaphone, which he has dug up somewhere in the Bunker. Being able to escape his Demon self for some precious moments, he spends them recording his legacy for Sam. It turns out to be quite a soul striptease, but he really wants to come clean before following through with the plan he has. Therefore he needs Sam to understand and support him. </p><p>  <em>Geez, where is the fucking button on that thing? Probably gonna break it, before having recorded anything useful. Rec? "Test! Test! I am Dean Winchester and this is my testimony."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my take on how I would like the Winchester Gospel to end.  
> Okay, it's one possibility out of a bunch raiding my mind.  
> This ones is very much Hurt, and not big on the Comfort part.  
> It's only starring Dean & a dictaphone and features a lot of retrospection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
> "Welcome 1" by Slut (german band)
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cerSglX-aKk
> 
> Lyrics: http://www.golyr.de/slut/songtext-welcome-1-30772.html
> 
> .

  


# The cage of our lives

*

*

_Welcome to a story, that's supposed to have an end and if not we'll pretend as if there was ..._

 _Welcome to a fairy tale and lean back for the show:_ the cage of our lives

  


Geez, where is the fucking button on that thing? Probably gonna break it, before having recorded anything useful. Rec?

Test! Test!

> Rewind. Play. 

Test! Test! 

> Stop.

Okay, guess, I am all set here. So, let's do this. Phew!

> Rec.

 

I am Dean Winchester and this is my testimony. 

Ah, fuck. I am not used to do stuff like this. I mean, this talking crap. Feels more like I should shoot the thing. Whatever, I don't have time and I want to … Sammy? This is for you mostly. I guess, I want you to know, why I did it. So here goes ...

If someone would have told me before getting that Mark of Cain shit - By the way, great idea, Crowley. Thanks a lot, buddy! - what it all would come down to, being black-eyed and all that, if someone would have given me the chance to go back and do it all all over again differently, I would … I would have done exactly the same stupid stuff, I did. You hear me, Sammy! I wouldn't sweat it and just fucking do it all over again. No regrets here! That's what I meant, when I said to you, that _"I'm proud of us."_

I don't know, if I am really going to have the courage later to … do it. Nah, not because I am afraid to die, but … it's … I don't wanna leave you behind. Alone. When I am going, then … Everyone's dead, Sammy. Everyone. Mom since decades now, Dad's fought till the end, so did Ellen and Jo and Bobby and ... and now I am kind of dead. I know, there is someone talking to you, looking like me. But it is not. Me. Yes, Sammy, I am dead already. 

I do see your face, dude. It looks like: _"It's clearly you talking, Dean. So you are cured, jerk. No need to take the step you are suggesting."_ I am sorry, but you need to dig the fact, that it is not me, Sam. From my point of non-view in here, I can see, that you haven't given up on me. Thanks, brother, but ... I am just a shallow shadow in a box with a tightly sealed, black-eyed buckle. I am on the ledge - all the time. Even though you can hear my voice on this recording, I might even sound like - ah, me - but ... I'm a puppet controlled by a demon. A fucking demon, Sammy, I can't ... 

I'm sorry, man, that it took me so long to get a grip, to teach myself this trick Dad did with the YED. No, Sam, don't look like that. It's not lasting. It was such a fight to be able to come out here at all and I am not sure, how long it's gonna last. Even Dad couldn't handle it for long. And it's fucking exhausting. Being in charge of this ... Thing is wicked. Not gonna do that while you're around. Don't know, how that ... It could turn on you. It surely would. Can't read its mind really, but I can see, what it is doing, how it's looking at you. Makes me sick, that fucking bastard.

I am actually recording this, while you are sleeping. Why I haven't told you about this progress? Cos I don't want you involved. This is my decision. This plan can still go down in every way possible. Like big-time Winchester-Style down, Sam. I'm not even sure, if this creature can listen in right now to what I'm saying and doing. Never felt that uncomfortable in my life. I don't wanna be this ... monster. We never wanted to turn into something like that, right, baby brother? I know you'll understand. Maybe not right now, but ....

I am positive, it's going to be a fucking catastrophe for you, not being able to save me and all that, but … after I am finished here – with life and earth and hell and heaven - it's gonna be fine. More than fine. It's gonna be good - finally. I will do what you did. I guess now I do understand way better, why you went there. I mean to Death Door. Sorry, doesn't cover for what I've done to you, tearing you out of that plan of yours. I am hoping that you are handling things better than me and that you will be able to … I'm gonna ask the same thing you did from him. I just wanna be wiped out. Let's say wiped clean, sounds maybe less threatening. Don't get me wrong. I am ... afraid, but still: That's what I want! A clean break. Being over with it. And I guess, the ol' man's gonna give it to me. Dude likes me, though he would only admit it over his cold, dead body. Haha.

Don't think I made that decision easily. It's just … It is bad in here. Really bad. Like Yellow-eyed-demon/hell/post-apocalypse/purgatory/metatron-heaven/leviathans(stupid creatures)-everythingallrolledtogether-Bad. I should probably stop whining, just making you feel bad, but I need you to understand, so you can let it go afterwards. Let me go. Let everything go, Sam. Go and never look back to this pile of blood and death and fucking self-sacrifice. Go ... 

… Be happy, Sammy.

*


	2. So let me go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *
> 
>  
> 
> Dean is trying to come clean about the truths Demon!Dean in the "African Dream Root" Dream threw at him and talks not only to Sammy, but also addresses their father.
> 
>  
> 
> *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *
> 
>  
> 
> Family of the year - Hero (from the Soundtrack "Boyhood" by Richard Linklater)  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iDjkW9xdX90  
> Lyrics: http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/familyoftheyear/hero.html
> 
>  
> 
> *

* * *

# So let me go

* * *

Hey, Sammy! I'm back for the next session "Soul Striptease with Dean Winchester". Not sure, how many I can manage. I was thinking so much about, what I want to say to you and how, but know I can't think of one word, I have made up before. 

...

Hope you don't get annoyed with me, not saying anything, just breathing into the mic like some creeper. Oh, I just remembered one important info, that you need to know. It does seem to be the honesty and the regrets, that make the Monster in me so weak, that I can step to the front.

But it's not just weakening him, but also me. Everyone can only handle so much truth about their life at a time – especially if your life has been such a disaster. Yeah, I do remember, that I said on the last monologue, I was throwing at you, that I am okay with everything. That – that was a lie. So now, I am really trying to be honest here and hopefully I'm rewarded with getting more holiday time. It's painful to be so brutally straightforward about a fucked up life. Don't wanna be a cry baby and sob about it, not stealing your part of the play, bro, but it feels like it's time to acknowledge, what I've done, what my life was all about in the end.

I am normally not doing this shit. These heart-to-hearts. Too fucking painful and never leading anywhere. Though it's only me on the other end, it still feels tough. But I feel like I need to come clean here. So much blood on my hands, so much ... Since so long … It took me a week to recover my strength from my last excursion out of Monster Land. I'd wish, we'd been closer in the last months. Probably my fault, what with the whole letting an angel possess you thing. Being possessed is the most messed up thing, I have ever experienced. I get that now. From what you and Ezekiel, I mean Gadreel, told me back then, separately for sure, you have been something like unconscious, when he took over. It's not the case in that fucked up in-body-marriage with the Demon. I am second row, big bright view on what the creatures doing with my life, my body all the time. 

Aaah, mostly I am angry with myself. Okay, probably I should be more honest here. Last chance to do it. I lied before, because I do regret things. I regret Ezekiel, I regret throwing Cas out of the Bunker, I regret Kevin, I regret Cain, I regret running for Metatron without you. The last year was a chain of fuck-ups, one shoving the next one on stage, and I tried to handle them the best I could, but, as we both know, I screwed up, Sammy, and maybe this is my sentence. 

Sad point is: I'm not even sure, if it's all just being possessed by that Monster. I've changed, man. Already before I changed eye color, I mean. Deep down you do already know that. So, maybe it was good, that we were so distant and out of reach with each over the last … since some time. I don't blame you, Sammy. I just fucked up – badly. 

_Your masquerade_  
 _I don't wanna be a part of your parade_  
 _Everyone deserves a chance to_  
 _Walk with everyone else_

The Mark of Cain played an important role in now being worn full time by this Hell Thing. But it was not the only factor. Let's face it: I am a Killer, nearly have been my whole life. I needed to be one for the task, that was drilled into me. So I did, what I had to do. This part was mostly okay. I knew, what I did. I could justify it before myself. The whole: Saving people, hunting things. The family business. You, on the whole, wide screwed earth, know best, what I am talking about, Brother. 

Something has shifted during the last couple of years. Slowly like the plate tectonics of earth. Crust moving over red-glowing, scorching lava. Maybe being a hunter comes with an expiration date like twenty-six years or thirty-three doing this job. I feel like I've started at four years old, so plus twenty-six … Maybe it should have been long over for me, Sam. I want it to be over. 

…

Ja, I am still here. Just thinking, what to say next, how to explain it. 

There are nights, that just never leave you. I mean, it is not just nights. That's cliché. When you jumped into the pit, it was in broad daylight, in the middle of a fucking sun-flooded - okay, it was a cemetery. But with me, it always seems to be the nights. The night in which we nearly killed that yellow-eyed bitch. We were so close until it all turned against us, but we managed, we escaped – with Dad. 

Have I ever really thanked you, that you didn't put the bullet into him as he had ordered you to do? Probably not enough. It could have been an okay moment afterwards, but here comes the Truck. Then those bells on this clock in the living room, announcing midnight and the arrival of the Hell Hounds. Argh, I'm starting to be poetic. That's probably not a good sign. 

Alright, Sammy, the last of this row of bad nights was … when I heard the metallic end of the knife Metatron used scraping over concrete on the other side of me. I knew instantly, that I wouldn't make it. That I might have even challenged this to happen. Maybe if I would have waited for you, instead of … Maybe that is something I really do regret. But it was also okay. I knew, I'm going to die. Finally! It felt like a relief – especially, when you made it to me in time. I have been alright with it. Who knew, that this Cain Thing wouldn't let me go? Crowley probably. I see, that he is trying to help you with Demon-Me right now, but I am still so fucking angry with him. 

...

Bad nights and days seem to come with the name Winchester written on it. At least that is what I can see now from my current point of view. Change of perspective, I guess. To be honest, Sammy, we've gone through a lot of crap. 

… 

Geez, I am turning into a complainer. Ugh! I hate those whiny bastards. I sound like an actor in a fucking German Art House Drama. I once went with that college chick to a – what's that called – Soiree? No, that was the night cinema screenings, right? Matinee...? Whatever. Was totally not worth it. I'm sidetracking myself to not talk about the important stuff. Damn. 

But the only thing I can do right now is talking. My energy doesn't last for more exciting things. Guess I head for "Hero in Retirement". Nah, "Hero in Demon costume" is probably more accurate.

So going back to sound like Grandma Smith from across the street of our old Home in Lawrence. You probably can't remember her. Weren't allowed to eat chocolate then. She was quite generous with those bars, but in return you needed to listen to her everyday life stories, told minute for minute. At least felt like that. 

Sammy, I know we never talked as much as you would have liked. Now, here we have something I regret. I could do it, you know. If I could have just one ordinary day with you again, I would do it. In the safety of the Impala, just acting like it is any other day. So we would ride in the Impala, stopping at a Diner, ordering the most incredible Grease-Burger they have - and pie! - and I would talk to you, Sam. And maybe I would let you drive for an hour. Or maybe not. If it would be really my last day here, I probably would wanna drive her as long as possible. But I would let you pick one song – even breaking the shotgun rule - and you would be grateful forever. Can really picture it. Hahaha. 

... 

I am afraid, it is not gonna happen, but I still want to let you in. Guess, that's what I am trying right now with this uncanny recording.

I am not strong enough to meet you face-to-face right now. And also - as I said before - I am not gonna do a Triage with you and the Thing wearing me. Just a bad feeling about it, moving on instinct here, but somehow I can pride myself with this. Has always been good. So we are not meeting until the final decision. 

...

There have been lots of bad nights. One of those bad nights, some years ago when Bobby was in that coma and we drank that "African Dream Root" stuff to chuck him out of it, was quite revealing about me, but I never told you about it. I know that you saw my Lisa-dream, but I don't even know, what you have dreamed back then. Or by the way, about whom you have dreamed in that little sex dream, you obviously had before. I am suspecting it was actually Bela. Ha! You are blushing! I'm right. Bitch.

…

Both of you. 

… 

Sam? Were we really talking so little, riding day in and day out together through all of those dusty back roads?

The honest thing keeps the ... Thing at bay, so I keep doing it. Simple as that. Here's - for a change - an unpleasant one for you, Sam. When you run off to Stanford, in the beginning I have been so fucking angry, Dad did instinctually didn't even mention your name. I guess, you would have thought it was the other way round. Nope! I never told you, but if you do remember our little wrestling match in your neat living room … I could have revealed myself earlier, but it was just nice – finally beating up your little ass, and I kept going until Jess was so nice to save it. 

Jess. Sam, go and find someone like her again. You had your shot at normal and you were doing well. This is my „Be happy“-Speech again. Guess I'll hold it to you until it has really sunken in. If you don't go, you end up like ... what is actually your worst dream? Ah, one-sided conversations. Pleasure. Sorry, I know, it was my decision to do it like that.

So, dreams, right? Here goes mine. I've dreamed, that … I've become a demon°°. The title of it was: „Dean's Greatest Nightmare“ in color and 3-D with the bonus package: black eyes. And now being this - being in him – being controlled by him - I have to acknowledge it all. Everything he told me back then. No waking up this time. He said a lot of really insane, harsh and cruel things. And guess what, Sammy? He was right. I have always just been a good soldier and nothing else. 

Sure. If anyone else would come up with that story … A father more or less kidnapping his kids from a normal life. I have often just felt like – how did the demon back then phrased it: _„Daddy's blunt little instrument._ Useful for hunting and watching out for you. _"Look out for your little brother, boy!"_ Yes, I can still hear your voice in my head, Dad. You brought us into the most dangerous situations you could think of, drilled us like in the fucking army. If I would have come across myself and Sam in that situations - Bam! That would actually have been a case for us.

...

This is gonna be more than awkward in an already awkward situation, but there is so much, I have to say. And one part is for Dad. So, even if I am recording this for you, I need to say this directly to him. 

Do you know, what I have never really got about you, Dad: Why the Army Style with the whole „Yes, Sir!“-Crap? It's not like 'nam hasn't left any wounds with you, has it? Surely the drinking didn't come from that war, huh? The whole training stuff was … it was fine with me, you know. I liked it – sometimes even really enjoyed it. But the drill … the withdrawal from anything resembling a normal life. Astonishingly enough, you did let us go to school. Maybe somehow you did understood, what you were taking away from us, and that was our shot at being normal.

Don't …! Just don't. It wasn't all the demon, cos I remember, even if you don't and I have never told him, that your drinking has been part of our family life before that. Sammy, before I told you about this demon dream. He was throwing all these truths at me and I just freaked and told him that _„My father was an obsessed bastard!“_ First time I hit the core of this fucked up shit my life has become. Before, I didn't even allow myself to think something like that. But when I had to face myself - my worst nightmare - and this guy - he just knew everything and my defenses just collapsed and I yelled it all out. For the first time I admitted, that I haven't deserved this. After I had shot the thing, the words were still visibly hanging in the room. I couldn't take them back and strangely enough, I started to believe them. But I don't think of you as a bastard anymore, Dad, though you might maybe agree with me on the obsession thing. 

Circumstances can drive people to do strange things, like Ezekiel-strange. But - and this is quite something: I am not hating myself anymore for fucking things up. You know, Sam, those demons, he was … they are reading me. In that dream, he threw it all out for me to see. Yeah, low self-esteem: _„I know how dead you are inside. How worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror... and hate what you see.“_ Even though I can still remember every word he said, cos it has been on endless replay some time after that in my mind – and they still hurt, but more in an amputated way, cos I'm not that man anymore. Somehow I got past that feeling of being a constant failure, Dad, but it took years of Sam*s convincing love as a brother and this one dorky angel to bring me over that special threshold.

So, Sam? I know, it again looks like just another kind of kamikaze mission, but this time … it is not. This is me coming to terms with everything. Not there yet, but trying.

...

Back to you, Dad, wherever you are. I remember being fucking angry with you as a little kid. I guess, I was like … three. Mom was pregnant with Sammy and you … and you just went out and came back – completely out of it – until the sun was high up in the sky. I can remember her tears so well. She tried to be brave and keep it together, but – she must have been in the ninth month – she wasn't even able to take me in her arms anymore and comfort me, so I supported her, told her it's gonna be alright, that you will come back. And you just went …

Why do I do that? You're dead. And I am just rambling on about my life as if that would change anything. Dad? It's not about blaming you. At least I am trying not to, but there have been these nights, in which I have told Sammy over and over again that everything will turn out fine. These nights with Sam sometimes really did feel like a flashback, but without Mom. And actually you have always returned, so he started to believe it. Point is: I didn't. I have counted them all. I have counted each night, you have been away, and in these nights I have counted every minute until exhaustion just simply wiped me out. 

What's different now looking back is, that now I know, that you have loved me. In your own strange ways. It helps. Leaving feels better with knowing that. But things are really bad now, Dad, and I wish you would be here, so I could talk it through with you, I mean, the options I have. I am sounding like a fucking four year old right now.

_And we can whisper things_  
 _Secrets from our American dreams_  
 _Baby needs some protection_  
 _But I'm a kid like everyone else_

I know my family's screwed to hell and back - Forgetting Adam down there. Another big, fat regret of mine. - several times. Ten years ago, I had thought that it had been the fire, the demon. But there is a bigger picture here, which I still haven't figured out yet and probably not gonna, in the little time left. I just know, that I don't want to be a part of it anymore. And I would like you to step out of it, too.

_So let me go_  
 _I don't wanna be your hero_  
 _I don't wanna be a big man_  
 _I Just wanna fight with everyone else_

I know, that you do right now everything possible – and more – to save me - protect me. Yes, I have been disappointed and I have questioned your loyalty, when you have not been looking for me during my Purgatory Holiday. But I do believe in you, man, always have. You are a good soul, Sam. Never forget that, you hear me? It fucking kills me to leave you behind. But right now I need you to do the wrong thing. I need your support in this, not gonna make it without you. That is why I am stripping my soul here for you. 

I have dug out a picture° - of us and Dad. I leave it with the dictaphone – later - when I want you to find the two things. It is one of my most valuable possessions. You look really pissed on it, Sammy. It always makes me laugh. 

I just hope, I am doing the right thing here. Hope I get another shot at talking to you. To weak now. See you, brother.

*

*

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
> ° http://www.pinkraygun.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/the-family-winchester.jpg  
> °° http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IfaDgEjirk8  
> °°° http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/index.php?title=3.10_Dream_a_Little_Dream_of_Me_%28transcript%29


	3. Thank you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
>  
> 
> There is still ... Cas.
> 
>  
> 
> .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
>  
> 
> http://www.infinitelooper.com/?v=cJj5jK7DfpU#/0;257  
> (originally by Led Zeppelin)
> 
> http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/chriscornell/thankyou.html
> 
>  
> 
> .

.

 

# Thank you ...

  


„Hi, Sammy! This really starts to wear me out, but I'm not done here. I think, I have said the most important things though, but … Sam?

…

Cas.

…

There is still Cas.  
Tell him …

…

I will never understand, why he chose me as a model for free will. The only choice I have ever made was to fulfill, what was put onto me. Maybe it's cos it's now all coming to an end, but I have never seen so clearly, why people were thinking of me as „Daddys Little Soldier“. As you might have understood from me rambling on and on before, I do now get the truth in this.

So, Cas … I just wanted to say …

I wish, I could talk to you myself.

…

I'm afraid the charge-angel-hotline doesn't work anymore, Sam, with me being all black-eyed. I need to say … some things to him. But here your greedy-emo ears can hear everything. So, hm … maybe … Ah, fuck. 

…

…

Cas, I want to …

…

I …

…

It's too hard. And I can't … 

…

I just can't.

Sam? What I understood from listening in to you talking with others … He is really weak.  
Is he dying, Sammy?

…

So often I have asked him to help us out. I have one request for: Could you take care of him, Sammy?

…

Please?

…

And one more: Could you just give him my Led Zeppelin cassette? It's the one with the red sticker and the broken shell. Tell him to figure out how a tape recorders work. It's the second song on the B-side. I know he has no taste in music at all. Like you. So you should get along really well. Just play it to him, he's probably gonna get it … at some point.

…

Stupid nerd angel!

…

Actually, I want to listen to this myself right now. Hold on! Must be somewhere here in my room …

 

 

>Click. 

 

 

_If the sun refused to shine,_  
I would still be loving you.  
When mountains crumble to the sea,  
there will still be you and me.

Little drops of rain whisper of the pain,  
tears of loves lost in the days gone by.  
My love is strong, with you there is no wrong,  
Together we shall go until we die.

And so today, my world it smiles,  
your hand in mine, we walk the miles ...

Thanks to you it will be done,  
for you to me are the only one.  
Happiness, no more be sad, happiness....

I'm glad.

 

 

* * *

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
>  
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WbxOIQIqjqQ – All of Deans Prayers to Castiel
> 
> .


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
>  
> 
> The last evening recording ... talking about "The Night" and planning Happy Endings.
> 
>  
> 
> .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> http://www.infinitelooper.com/?v=pnrhX9e9CkI&p=n
> 
> Lyrics: http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/bobseger/thefamousfinalscene.html
> 
>  
> 
> .

*

# Now the stage has all been set ...

*

„

Hi Sammy! I guess, this is my last night recording my precious words for you. Alright, I have talked to you about bad nights before, right. On the tape it's just gonna be some minutes prior. But the recording took time. It is now actually a month after my first speech.

So bad nights, right? There has been that night … The Night, which has started it all. It just never left me, you know. First, there was the fire, and I was horrified, but when I ran down the stairs with you bundled up in my arms, I have been listening for the footsteps of Mom and Dad behind me. But there was only the crackling of the fire and the burning furniture. And a tinge in the smoke, a very special smell, and even if I didn't know, what it was at that moment, I already understood that nothing's gonna be the same again.

When one of those fucking nightmares catches up with me, it's always this smell, that stays with me even after the pictures from my dream have faded. I then lie awake and can't stop picturing, which light the fire created in your room, eating away the curtains, turning your crip into a bonfire and our Mom …

We've never really talked about it, Sammy, but I want you to know, that I haven't seen it myself. Just from the outside, but that doesn't mean that I have no pictures. But the worst part is the smell … It has spread its stench under my skin, sunk itself into my bones and it''s just anchored so deep down in my heart, that I've never even tried to pull at it.

What happened ... I guess, that is the thing, why I actually could understand Dad, why I have been ... Such things ... it is permanently and restlessly tattooing itself into my soul. Just wanted to let you know that, so you can finally catch a glimpse of me, which I have always kept tied up somewhere. It is time to show that boy some light, let him breath.

This part of me will stay four forever, running over cold, wet grass, dressed in that awkward brown-something, or have they been blue? I don't know, why that bothers me so much right now, that I don't know it? Whatever. If you are not able to catch up with my babbling, just a hint: right now I am talking about pyjamas. Thinking of it: you were actually kind of heavy for being just six months, baby bro. The foreshadow of becoming the Sasquatch, I guess.

Maybe it is just like that at the end. You get really fond of all the little details in your life, don't want to let them go. If you are not remembering them, who will? Probably you! We really did live in each others pockets, Brother.

Aaaaaahhhh! Actually I thought of it as a bit more "laissez-faire" or what that sophisticated word is. You know what I mean. More like leaning back and letting your life float in front of you in a nostalgic way and less like desperately clinging onto stupid specifics.

No, that are absolutely no tears, you are hearing in my voice right now. The bastard wearing me, spending all of his time drinking, fighting and fucking - Thinking about it, that does just sound like me, does it? Ah, damn - whatever. He doesn't care enough for me, his meat suit, and we've probably just caught a cold. You might call him out on that one. Should better not giving me any scratches. I wanna be looking like my awesome self on the pyre.

Yes, Sammy, in the end - in the Happy Ending - of this, there is going to be one. It's waiting for me and I am happily looking forward to that part.

Right now, I am sitting in the second row of the most horrible nightmare, I've ever been through. And I have been through a lot. Nah, I don't wanna cry about it. Or brag. It's fine, you know. It's not like I am not used to it. It's not like I have ever really thought that I have a shot at a normal life. Or someone to love besides family. I also said, that with our job we can't get close to people. Period.

It's still true. I am always right. I'm awesome. Goes without saying, so what I actually want to say is: Stop it! Just right out, stop it, Sam. You said, that nothing's wrong with normal. And this one time you are right. So go …

… have normal … have a family … have kids … or at least a dog.

...

Ah, you got me. Okay, I have thought about it. Especially with Ben and Lisa. But as you know, it didn't work out so … well, what should I say? All I could do in the end was make her forget, that I even have existed. And … I am sorry about that … so much … but it just wasn't supposed to be and it is still better then how we were ...

... I mean, how could someone raise kids on the road? Oh … right. Remember after I've picked you up from Stanford and we had that job in this white-picket-fence suburb, the manicured lawns. Urgh! But, … yeah, alright – Coming-clean, Dean!-Session … I told you then, that I would take our family over normal any day. And it was true, you know. Or at least, that's what I told myself. Every day. It doesn't make sense to think about things you can't have.

But I tried to make the best out of it, tried to be a good brother for you, Sam. I have even tried to be a stable parent to you, though I feel, I have failed you horribly.

…

...

Let's keep on talking about the pyjama. Maybe it was both. Brown and blue. For sure checkered. I can remember, cos it always reminded me of a chess board. You wore a white blanket that night, and of that color I am sure. I will never forget. It was directly in front of my nose and wrapped in it was the most precious thing on earth.

...

Don't get me wrong. There have been good times. Oh, there have been plenty of good times, Brother.

Ah, Sammy! Last time I felt like that, at least I knew what to do. I just went and made that deal. And I have never – never – regretted to safe your sorry ass. Hell … ah, it hasn't been that bad. Only thing that bothers me, that I was … bad there. A lot.

Still. It feels like Bad Boy Kindergarten, cos at least I have then still been myself. It was weird and twisted and wrong in more than a thousand ways, but I was the one doing these things. Now I am just neatly tied up as a meat suit for a demon and … I can't bear it. It is the most horrible thing, in a very helpless way, that I have ever had to live through.

Why I am telling you all this, Sammy? There's one simple reason behind it. I want you to be okay with my plan. Geez, I wish Bobby would be around. But – I have a wonderfully smart brother. Sammy, I need you. I need you to make a wild U-Turn in your plans of saving me, cos from what I could see, they are not what I want. Yah, you are still going to save me, just not how you expected it will go. I want you to be in it with me, to understand, to agree and not regret anything.

So, I guess that's it. I'm gonna drown myself in – I'm not sure yet - Lake of Holy Water? Just joking, you know me, Sammy. It's just because I am so fucking scared. But it's getting better, cos now I have really figured out the thing I want.

…

If you have carefully listened to this - probably not just once - and you are okay from what I am asking of you, then please … Eight nights from today, next Sunday evening, I am going to be in the big Hall. Let's make it a symbolical midnight. I am going to be there, waiting to see, if you are there, too. Cos when you are, I know for sure, that you are okay with it.

This is the hardest thing I have ever asked of you, Sammy, I know that. But please, I am begging here, man.

Help me, please.“

 

>Click.Click.

 

„Ermh … about the mess in the hall*. I'm … sorry. It would be easy to blame it on Demon-Me, but actually …

It's not only easy, but now I am okay. I'm good. Really. Just too tired to fix it. Sorry, Bro.

See you soon, Sammy.

 

>Click.

 

 

 

_Think in terms of bridges burned  
Think of seasons that must end_

See the rivers rise and fall  
They will rise and fall again

 

Everything must have an end  
Like an ocean to a shore  
Like a river to a stream

Take it calmly and serene  
It's the famous final scene

 

It's been coming on so long  
You were just the last to know 

Now you move toward the door  
Here it comes the hardest part  
Try the handle 

 

 

... of the road ...

 

 

.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
>  
> 
> * https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aYQBGD_a9KQ – Song from the original use in the series
> 
>  
> 
> .


	5. Into the next life.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> °
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _The scrape of wood on a stone floor. The closing of a door down the corridor. From the mixture of habit and hunter instincts Sam knew immediately, that it was Dean's._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> °

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> °
> 
> http://www.infinitelooper.com/?v=EBIzJGE5lN0&p=n
> 
> http://www.creelcommission.com/bcc.php?action=show&rid=36&title=Lyrics+-+Cigarette&date=18-11-2004
> 
> °

 

 

# Into the next life.

 

 

He was nervous. He was so fucking nervous. For the hundred fourteenth time this evening, he checked the clock on the side board. One minute before midnight. His heart beat changed into an even quicker gear. Would Dean really manage to escape the flesh-tight grip of his archenemy? Over the run of the last months, he had never witnessed anything in that direction, but the tape …

It could be a trap, a very nicely thought through trap, a little voice told him matter of factly. He smashed his hand on the hard polished wood of the table. Fuck Demon!Dean. He hated that guy from the bottom of his heart, the place next to the spot, where the endless love for his brother was sourced.

The scrape of wood on a stone floor. The closing of a door down the corridor. From the mixture of habit and hunter instincts Sam knew immediately, that it was Dean's. Hesitating steps in the hallway. His shoulders tightened just thinking about what – who, he corrected himself hastily – would come around the corner. He dry swallowed and fought against the childish wish to close his eyes, but narrowed his head. Closer. Closer. Nearly in front of him. Stopping. He saw Dean's familiar boots standing quietly in front of him.

„You are here.“ Soft. Dean's voice was soft, not the sarcastic „I-just-don't-fucking-care!“-snarl of Demon-Dean!, to which he had gotten so used to and tired of in the last weeks. It was even softer than „normal“ Dean's voice. It was the voice, he had listened to every night and morning, after he had found the tape on his nightstand.

„I am.“ Nervously Sam bit on his lower lip. „You … eh, ... wanna sit.“ He saw a warm, wet shine in his brother's eyes. „Yeah, but let's move outside. I wanna have a last ride with you and her.“ Keys were flying in a perfect half circle towards his hands and with a slowly blooming, sad smile Sam caught them mid-air. Lifelong training. Though the mundane activity of grabbing a jacket and putting it on, had never been such a struggle.

On the way out, they didn't talk, barely looked at each other, until they finally sat in the leather seats of the Impala. Dean drew in a deep breath and slid his fingers carefully back and forth over the black leather. When he finally broke the silence between them, there was a slight tremble in his voice. „Thanks, Sam. I was – I am actually still - waiting for a big speech of „You can't do that. I won't let you“.“

He shot a questioning glance at his brother behind the steering wheel. „It doesn't feel right to be in the driver's seat, Dean.“, was the only answer he got. „But this is your place from now on.“, he replied carefully, checking on Sam's reaction. „Better get used to it, little brother.“

With a big sigh, Sam put his head on the steering wheel. „If you could look into my head, Dean, then you would see the script, I have been writing to you about this night, what I'm going to say to change your mind, to … It's a detailed list with every argument, I could think of. I stopped at point 73.“ He turned to face Dean. „But I am not going to read it to you. I have understood, what you told me on the cassette. But I only really understood, when I saw your face tonight ...“ His lips quivered and Sam hid his face away from his brother's, his mouth curling up shivering uncontrollably due to his effort to suppress his tears.

„That is more than I could've hoped for. Thanks, Sam.“ Dean unfolded his arm onto the back of the driver seat, his skin drinking in the warmth radiating from his brother's neck. „I'm afraid, we need to do this quickly.“ The gesture with which Dean pointed towards the still unturned key in the ignition looked sure and completely lost at the same time. Sam ran a hand over his face and drew in a shaky breath. Biting on his lower lip, he turned and silently studied his brother for some precious moments. 

Dean appeared smaller as in his memories. Maybe it was just him only being used to show-off-loud-mouth Demon!Dean. Or it was because of the unusual position of Dean riding shot gun. Or just because of the calmness of his brother. Sam couldn't remember having seen him so collected and untroubled in the last ... life. First time he seemed to clearly be at peace with himself. The harsh determination with which he always had faced life head on, had vanished giving way to something new, which he would need time to find the matching words for to describe it. Time! 

He sighed deeply. Contemplating over what Deans features, he discovered that even his facial expression looked different. Some of the rough lines etched into the skin had softened and Dean seemed years younger. The change was nearly unsettling, if it wouldn't have made Sam so happy. With a little groan he reached out for the keys and with a warm, rich roar the engine of the Impala came to life. A faint image of his usual smile radiated over Dean's face.

„So … where are we going?“ Sam's forehead wrinkled in that special unhappy way reserved for the really, really bad situations and Dean couldn't resist. Warily he brushed his hand over Sam's uncombed mop of hair, wanting to jinx the sorrows away, his brother must unspoken be harboring in his complicated head and big heart.

„You are not going, Sam. But I am really glad, that it is you taking me there. It's at a crossing five miles from here. In the forest behind it is a clearing, where two old oaks are growing entwined in each other. That's our - that's my destination tonight. Come back tomorrow morning. My body will be at the foot of the two old trees. Burn it. I want a good traditional pyre.“

„But ...“ Sam could hear, that his voice sounded desperate and he swallowed. „I mean, where are you going Dean?“ - „I want, what you wanted, Sam. So I guess, you know best.“ - „You mean, what I asked from Death?“ - „Mhmmm. The books are calling it „The Void“.“

From the corner of his eyes he saw Sam's small nod. „I am still sorry, that I have taken this from you … then. But … you have a real chance here, Sam. Hunting and being the punching ball for everyone's over. We can make it be over for us.“ His head dropped a little. „In different ways.“ He forced himself to face his little brother again, and locked his eyes with Sam's in an intensive, but calm way.

Dean had been fearing for a last big fight, Sam wanting to talk him out of it or stay with him, but there was only a lot of water on his brother's face. With a tiny nod, he gave Dean his approval, made finally clear that it was okay with him, that he consented and fully accepted Dean's decision.

A warm flood of tranquility rushed through Dean, taking his his last worries with it. Everything would be alright. So Dean mirrored Sam's nod and it encompassed everything, that they have ever been through and what they meant to each other: family, brothers, friends, allies - fellows in misery. They both knew, there are moments in life, where words are meaningless and spent the next miles in affectionate silence.

„It's here, Sammy. Just drive into that dirt road over there.“ Dean finally said in a very quiet voice. „Here? What is here?“ Dean could see how his brother was struggling to make himself react to the request. When he finally stomped on the brakes, it was way too hard and they both were smashed into their seat belts. „Sam! I am going to die. Don't make that about the both of us.“ In a tired voice Sam just sighed and turned the engine off. The following silence was overwhelmingly loud between them.

Dean looked at Sam, saw him over as if he wanted to learn him by heart, then he took a deep breath and put his hand on the door handle. „Bye, Sammy. I wish you a long and good live.“, he said with his back turned to his brother. „Have kids, yeah? Please do. If it*s a son call him Bobby. Or Garth, for Heaven's sake. And if it's a girl: Jo or Charlie. Never tell them the meaning behind their names. Raise them like you would have been liked to be raised. Tell them, that they don't need to be afraid of the dark. Tell them, that the things that go bump in the night, tell them … they are not real.“

When Dean finally faced him, Sam could see a flow of water streaking silently down Deans face, though his voice was calm and steady. He looked … at peace with himself. „Sam, I'm done dying for the greater good. This time, I do it just for me. I have it all figured out and it's astonishingly easy. You actually don't have to help me with. I just wanted to have that last ride with you. Now … it's better you leave. Drive back to the bunker, pick up all of your things. Don't take anything that's non-civil. Let the hunting be over. This is my legacy to you, Sam.“

His chest heaved under the last long in-draw of air. „As I said before: I just want you to be happy, Sammy. Standing at the end of all that, I can see it in a surprising clarity: we don't deserve this – nothing of it. So, go. Take care of your life. Make it good. If absolutely necessary, you might even go back to boring Stanford. But don't do it for me, but for you.“

Dean crossed the little space between their seats, which seemed to expand by the second, and put his hand on Sam's. „I love you, Sammy. Your a good man. Always will be.“

Sam followed the easy movement of Dean climbing out of the car. He patted her roof and then the figure of his brother slowly disappeared out of the radius of the car lights. Dean headed towards a dark barrier of trees. Before it, he stopped, turned one last time, and with a lift of his hand and a fluid movement, he was gone into the soft shadows of the trees.

 

°

 

The clearing with the two old oak trees was easier to find, then he had anticipated, even though the small sickle of the moon, already nearly touching the horizon, wasn't providing much light. He hadn't thought about a flash light, didn't wanted one. He was looking for calm, the darkness was cradling him and he started feeling like he wasn't a part of all this anymore. The only thing that distracted him shortly from his task, was a falling star and his heart made a last, little desperate jump, thinking of Castiel.

Then he laid down against the trunk of the oak facing the sky and closed his eyes. The books had spoken about a barrier, which only the spirits, that really want to become void, could pass. The first minutes nothing happened, then he lost track of time. Slowly, he felt a draft developing, which softly pulled at him to open his mind in a way, he had never done before.

Finally, something inside of him let loose and breached. There were no human words for what he faced. It could have been defined as something like „the whole universe, that has ever existed.“, the moment passed and the eternity in him narrowed down to warm shadows. It was like sinking into the ground and leaping from the Earth into space at the same time. Dean embraced the Void and dove into s – i – l – e – n – c – e andthennothing.

 

°

 

He had sworn to not fall asleep, but at some point his worried and worn out body had betrayed him. The first sun beams fell through the rear mirror directly onto his lids and with a startle, he woke up. He thought that his heart should race, understanding what lay ahead of him, but inside of him he found just quietness and – reconciliation. With steady hands he started the Impala and drove the half mile back to where he had dropped Dean of last night.

When he reached the spot Dean had described to him he found Dean's body rolled into a little ball under the intertwined trees. Worried he stepped closer and an astonished gasp left his mouth, when he scanned the face of his brother: the most peaceful, he had ever, ever seen it. He never had see him like that. Maybe that was how Dean had been before four.

Building the pyre took him some time, but he was in no hurry, just calmly listening to his mind playing sequences from the tape on loop. Dean's voice filtering through his veins, telling him, that everything's okay: This is what I wanted. It was a soothing liturgy in his heart, steadying his hands to do the job. When he searched in Dean's jacket for the lighter, the soft, worn leather enveloped him in the familiar scent of his brother and that was one moment he nearly broke.

Watching the flames swallow the thin wood trunks, he swore to himself, that this would be the last time he ever lit someone. Shortly, he thought about burning Dean's recording with him, but – even it was all neatly stored in his head – he couldn't do it. He laid the tape into the diary of their father and put both into the glove compartment.

When the logs had burnt down to glowing ember, he took a deep breath. „I hope your plans worked out, Dean. I am now following mine … I'll get Cas and we'll jump of the map.“

And that's what Sam did. The Impala felt like a trustworthy, loving ally under him, warmly hugging his frame. Still sitting in the driver's seat was painful and sad, though full of possibilities, and so Sam kept on driving ... ... into his next life.

 

°

~ The End of the Winchester Gospel ~

 

 

* * *

 

All that we are will remain in the past

 

When all your thoughts and forms are now so free  
then they seemed so lost to me - into these mysteries

 

Into the next life, whatever feels right,  
will mean it is right, it will mean everything  
Just take it or leave it, all you believe in,  
and lean on in this life and it will be everything!

 

 

.

 

°

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> °
> 
> http://s3.favim.com/orig/43/brothers-chevrolet-impala-1967-dean-jared-padalecki-jensen-ackles-Favim.com-362317.jpg
> 
> °


End file.
